On the phone with a friend earlier today: “I cannot understand God as a father figure.  I really want to, but I just cannot do it.”  She couldn’t either.  Odds are that you can’t either, so welcome to the clubhouse.

– — –

It’s 12:42 a.m.  Laying in bed, lights off except for the candle flickering nearby.  Talking to God about my evening whilst creating finger-puppet-shadow-thingies on the wall beside my bed.  So far: cow, giraffe, squirrel and, of course, camel.

I’ve never made finger-puppet-shadow-thingies on the wall before tonight, so I don’t know what you’re supposed to call them.  But I do know this: I can make an elephant that would make you swear you were at the actual circus, big top and all.

– — –

I like talking to You whilst making finger-puppet-shadow-thingies on the wall.  It makes me feel like maybe I really am Your daughter.  I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

Or anyone, either.

You really are enough.  You’ve been telling me that all along and I haven’t believed You.

But it turns out that You really are enough.

– — –

It’s just finger-puppet-shadow-thingies on the wall, I know.

But it’s a promising start for us, don’t You think?